So, I have spent that last week in a book fair chairperson's haze, where you can name every book in the rolling metal carts and exactly where it goes, and even if there's an empty spot, you can name the book that once went there.
I adore the book fair. I adore recommending books to kids, helping parents find books and even encourage parents to let their kids read some fluff. I adore children coming back after a day or two and grinning and telling me about their book they read. I also love that we are raising not money, but books. We take all of our profit in books and all of it goes back to buying books for the classrooms, teachers, library and guided reading. It's a good thing.
By the end of the week, however, the milk in the house is expired, the bread is moldy and there is a last minute trip to WalMart at 6:45 on a Friday morning, because there is no dog food, the littlest one has a fieldtrip that day so he needs a lunchable and the oldest one needs poster board for social studies. I'm a deadline kind of girl, but I can promise you these things don't normally happen in quite such a red-alert fashion. Book fair week takes a lot of patience from the loved ones in a girl's household.
But, still not the best thing I did this week. I spent Saturday morning sewing things that needed to be sewn for my work, but didn't get done because I was running from book fair to baseball to swimming and surviving. I sewed all day today, ran to the grocery store and then came home in time for Sarge to take off to work and then to sew some more.
Part way through sewing something that needed to be sewn, Olivia asked me to come downstairs and outside to watch the storm outside. I told her I'd be a minute, that I needed to sew on these two sleeves. I sewed on one sleeve. She asked again. I told her I'd be a minute. And then? I changed my mind. I decided those sleeves could wait.
She and I sat on the front step, watched the lightning, listened to the thunder, petted the dog that sat with us and chatted about nothing of any importance at all. We sat there for about twenty minutes.
At one point she said "Mom, I'll never forget this." I knew before she said that I had made the right choice, but when she said it out loud, I knew I'd never forget it. And I told her that sitting out there was the best thing I'd done all week.
The sleeve has since been sewn on. And my daughter and I have made a wonderful memory, which will last far longer than that sleeve.